


Original Sin

by myrthrilmercury



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Biblical References, Come Shot, Consensual Infidelity, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Facials, Frottage, Hair-pulling, Making Out, Massage, Multi, Musical References, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Sequel, securing my place in hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 16:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7515919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrthrilmercury/pseuds/myrthrilmercury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sid invites Geno over after the Stanley Cup victory parade and gets an unexpected bonus for winning the Conn Smythe.</p><p>Sequel to "Victory Lap" requested by a reader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Original Sin

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Victory Lap](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7096993) by [myrthrilmercury](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrthrilmercury/pseuds/myrthrilmercury). 



_Can you come over?_

Sid lost count of how many times he had checked his phone since texting Geno over an hour ago, but there was still no response. He wasn’t sure whether he was worried or pissed or what, but for Geno, any delay longer than five minutes in responding to a text was unusual. 

Especially over the past few days.

Sid’s memories after drinking champagne out of the Cup were rather fuzzy, but some of them were emblazoned in his brain: the champagne-soaked jersey clinging to his skin, hugging Geno, Sully’s speech (this one was coherent; the more he drank, the more the others started to sound like the teacher from Peanuts), Hags managing to stumble into every piece of furniture in the room, Kess shouting “I’M RICK JAMES, BITCH!” at random intervals…

And at some point before finally staggering back to his room in the dead of night, he was on his knees sucking off Geno in a bathroom down near the hotel lobby.

He was lingering on the last memory when his phone vibrated.

_got busy home be there 30_

The reply was awfully coherent for a guy who had pretty much been drunk for the past 72 hours and was likely typing with one hand while holding his new baby in the other.

Anna had to know what was going on. She wasn’t stupid. And yet, whenever Sid was around her, she would just smile. But that shimmer in her eyes couldn’t help but unnerve Sid, since he could tell the wheels in her head were spinning whenever she watched him interact with her now-husband.

If Sid were to hazard a guess, it would be that not only did Anna know, she got off on it.

Because Geno, as loving and devoted of a family man as he was, always came back to Sid for another bite of the forbidden apple. What they’d had for the past few years, and still had, could not and would not be denied.

And even if Sid were to find someone else or get married in the future, it would remain that way, as Geno was the serpent slithering down the tree of knowledge in his own Garden of Eden.  
***  
Sid leaned over and peeked out the front window again for what seemed like the hundredth time in a row since getting Geno’s text. 

The top of Geno’s head was now visible as he approached the middle of the walkway towards the front door. 

Sid clambered over to the front door, anticipating the exact moment when Geno’s hand would be on the doorknob. His timing was off by a few seconds, as Geno was just at the top of the step to the porch when he opened the door. Whatever. It didn’t matter.

They exchanged smiles and quick glances as Geno stepped into the foyer and Sid pushed the door shut. 

And the very instant that Sid heard the lock click, he grabbed the neck of Geno’s shirt and pulled down, shoving his mouth against the other man’s.

The action triggered an unequal and much more forceful reaction of Geno slamming Sid against the wall next to the front door, mouth never once leaving his, hands snaking up and down Sid’s body as Geno pressed his weight forward, leaving Sid with very little breadth to do much beyond kissing him just as forcefully while creeping his hands underneath Geno’s shirt and up the small of his back.

Geno’s mouth left Sid’s shortly before engulfing the sweet spot on Sid’s neck, coupling with the teeth simultaneously grazing the area as Geno threw his weight forward, pressing closer as he ground their hips together.

Hissing through clenched teeth, Sid grabbed fistfuls of Geno’s shirt as he returned the gesture, cock straining against his jeans as he rolled against the identical bulge only centimeters apart, eliciting a low, animalistic growl in response before Geno pulled back a little to undo his pants.

Sid began reaching down with his right hand to begin removing his own clothing, but immediately froze when Geno batted it away. Instinctively, he remained still as Geno undid the button and zipper before sliding everything down, stopping a little below the knees. The lips and teeth returned to Sid’s neck as Geno fumbled his way out of his own pants. The material barely touched the floor before Geno pulled away, leaned back, and peeled his shirt off; tossing it aside before lunging forward for another kiss, hands firmly on his captain’s hips. 

Geno’s fingers tangled themselves in the hem of Sid’s shirt, gradually pulling upwards with as much friction as possible until both nipples were exposed.

They made eye contact as Geno broke the kiss and maneuvered against Sid, placing his bad arm on Sid’s chest before once again grinding their hips together. Sid’s nails began piercing the skin of Geno’s shoulders the moment he felt Geno’s free hand wrap around both of their cocks at once, then dug in further when the hand began to move. 

Despite his lack of leverage, Sid matched Geno’s thrusts the best he could, never breaking their mutual eye contact for a single moment; flesh slapping against flesh in an obscene, rhythmic crescendo, modulating towards that sudden surge Sid needed to come.

He was still erupting when Geno reached his own zenith, growling something that was neither English nor Russian, but needed no translation, as it conveyed everything necessary.

The haze of desire began to dissipate as their breathing gradually slowed and the mental fog lifted, allowing both to think clearly for the first time since the texts had been exchanged.

And then, Sid lifted his head, uttering the very first words spoken since the visit began.

“Hey,” he said with a blissful smile. “Glad you could come.”  
***  
Once they got that out of their systems, they were actually able to have a normal visit.

Normal for them, at least. There was always at least some physical contact when they were together.

This was the case as Sid leaned into Geno’s half-outstretched, half-embracing arm as they sat on the couch. Geno had the remote and was searching for something to watch while Sid went through the baby pictures Geno had just synced to his phone. The file would be gigantic, but there were enough to tide over Taylor and her long-standing demand for any teammate baby photos until she could meet Nikita in person. 

Sid also couldn’t help but notice Geno’s wedding ring, which he had intended to mention during the parade, but never got the chance. He had always thought that people didn’t wear them until they were actually married, so perhaps…?

His intuition was right, and it really didn’t come as a surprise. Eloping sounded just like Geno. He and Anna wanted to keep things fairly low-key, and the plan was to have a reception in late September, when things were a little calmer, everyone was back in town, and the weather was still halfway decent. While winning the Cup was the good type of mayhem, Sid couldn’t really blame Geno for not wanting to pile all of the life-changing events on at once. 

But the ring suddenly made Sid think… “Does Anna know you’re here?”

Geno nodded. “Said I could come. Put Niki to bed. Fussy Niki earlier, why I’m not text until later.”

Then again, maybe Anna could use the break from Geno. Even Vero and Flower needed some time apart from one another every now and then, and those two were like lovebirds, joined at the hip (and sometimes in other places, too).

Upon noticing both bottles on the coffee table were now empty, Sid got up and headed to the kitchen for more beer. Considering how much alcohol they had both consumed over the past few days, they probably shouldn’t have been having any more, and yet, they were doing exactly that.

Hell, Geno had probably spent about five minutes sober since winning the Cup, but it didn’t seem to faze him. The champagne had been a sucker punch, but nothing else had gotten him drunk since then. There was probably a Russian joke in there somewhere, but Sid figured it was best to keep his mouth shut.

Sid opened the fridge for two more bottles of Purple Haze and rolled his eyes when he saw the mostly-intact case of Keystone Light that Sheary had brought the last time he came over. Only four cans were missing, and those were the ones that Sheary and Rust drank. Sid wondered how on earth both of them could stomach that swill. The phrase “making love in a canoe” came to mind.

When Sid returned to the couch, beer in tow, Geno abandoned his quest of finding something halfway decent on TV and turned it off. How did that song go again: fifty-seven channels and nothing on?

Geno accepted one of the bottles from Sid and took a long swig as Sid sat back down on the couch next to him. The arm then returned to Sid’s shoulders, now more insistent than before. 

“You know, been thinking…” Geno began.

Sid noticed the devilish look in Geno’s eyes mid-sip and had a very good idea of what was on Geno’s mind, but it didn’t hurt to ask. “Yeah?” he prodded as he his bottle down on the coffee table.

“Deserve bonus for Conn Smythe.”

“Really, now?” Considering what his reward had been for getting into the Finals, now Sid _really_ had to ask himself what Geno was imagining. If he was able to top _that,_ well…

The train of thought skidded to a halt when Sid felt Geno’s mouth against his, the taste of alcohol still fresh on his lips. The dormant senses within came back to life as Geno’s lips, tongue, and mouth, joined by the insistent hands winding paths under Sid’s shirt, sent pulses throughout his body; turning all of his latent desires and impulses back on once more. 

Sid began pulling at Geno’s clothes as he returned the kisses with corresponding vigor, forging his own paths across Geno’s alabaster skin. No matter how many times they did this, it never failed to enthrall Sid that all of _this_ —skin, eyes, mouth, hands, everything—this entity of consummate perfection before him was truly _his._

The fact that Geno truly wanted—no, _craved_ him in return made it that much more breathtaking.

Both men broke the kiss to finish removing all of their clothes. Geno stood up and moved so that he was now standing behind Sid before placing his hands on his captain’s shoulders and pushing gently.

“Lie face down,” Geno murmured, breath hot against Sid’s ear. “Wait here.”

Sid obeyed and listened to Geno leave the room and head over to the foyer, where he then ascended the stairs. Odds were that he was headed to the bedroom, but sex on the couch hadn’t worked so well the first and last time they tried it. Perhaps he had other ideas in mind?

A short time later, Sid had his answer when Geno returned with some hand towels and the bottle of warming massage oil he had bought on a lark one day. 

Sid turned his head towards Geno, smiling. “Oh, is this my reward?”

“Just getting started,” Geno replied with a roguish grin.

Sid heard the cap open and almost immediately felt Geno’s slick hands against his shoulders, kneading out all of the tension from the past week. Each part of Geno’s hands and fingers sought and found every last knot, from the massive to the miniscule, dissolving them like ocean waves against a breakwall. 

Sighing contentedly, Sid turned his head to one side as the hands worked their way up and down his spine. He felt himself sinking further into the leather, almost in a stupor when Geno reached the small of his back.

Apparently Geno was about to make a mess, since Sid felt one of the towels pass over his back a couple of times. There was some audible shuffling before the bottle’s cap opened again, and only a few brief seconds before the freshly-coated hands were on the backs of his thighs, lingering there for a bit before gradually journeying upwards. Every last nerve in the skin anointed by those hands blazed with the fire of a thousand suns, nearly combusting when the hands spread out over his ass, giving it a shameless squeeze before immediately sliding back down to give the suddenly-neglected skin some more attention.

Although Sid’s mind was slipping into latency, his body was coming to life, relaxed and aroused at the same time; which made the sensation of the towel returning to his body that much more palpable as he silently swore he could feel every thread dragging across him. 

The hands, which had now been wiped clean, were then at his waist, gently pulling upwards. Sid got the hint and rose to his knees, yet kept his forearms and head down on the couch. While he couldn’t see much when he turned his head, he did observe Geno maneuvering so that he was now on his knees on the other cushion as well. The hands had now returned to his ass and were moving deliberately, gradually exposing him even more so than he already was.

No way. Geno couldn’t possibly be—

Sid cried out and convulsed the instant he felt Geno’s tongue slide around the edge of his opening. Oh yeah. He _was._

Whimpering pathetically, Sid found himself twitching involuntarily at the sensations elicited by the tongue that hadn’t even entered him, yet still managed to drive him mad as he started _wanting,_ needing as he clawed at the leather in wanton frustration, stymied by Geno’s lackadaisical pace.

The tongue poked at him a few times, drawing out nervous anticipation for a brief while before unexpectedly thrusting in as far as possible.

“Unh, _fuck!”_ Sid grabbed the armrest with both hands and pulled hard enough for the frame to creak. Geno chuckled lowly in devious satisfaction at having made his captain curse, then pressed his hands down more firmly as he spread him open a little more, thoroughly exploring the area both internally and externally as he pressed his face forward.

Then suddenly, Geno pulled away, taking a deep breath before gently prodding the perineum with two fingers prior to lunging forward once more, burying his tongue inside the other man. 

The metamorphosis was now complete; prompting Sid to arch back with a primal snarl as he balanced himself against the armrest with one forearm. Sid turned to face Geno as much as possible while his other hand reached for his cock and he pushed his hips back insistently.

Geno’s hands now clutched Sid’s cheeks, nails digging into the flesh as he grunted in primeval arousal, thrilled at having invoked that twist of Cain; that which now had Sid maniacally bucking his hips as he fucked himself with Geno’s tongue, screaming filthy imperatives at the top of his lungs.

“God, yeah, just like that!” Sid hissed through clenched teeth, jerking his cock like a piston as he worked himself into a frenzy, all hell breaking loose as he slammed against Geno’s face one final time, howling savagely as he came.

Sid shook uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face as Geno pulled away in utter astonishment, babbling nonsense while Geno stopped to catch his breath. Once he regained sight, he noticed Geno cleaning his face and chest with one of the nearby towels.

Geno returned the towel to where it had previously been, regarding Sid with an expression between both genuine concern and unprecedented arousal. “I’m take it you liked bonus?”

Sid heaved one final, drawn-out gasp before attempting to push himself back up, abandoning the effort when his arms still didn’t quite work correctly. “When can we do that again?”

“Soon,” Geno vowed. “ _Fuck,_ Sid.” 

Sid smiled and laughed weakly, wanting to return the favor, but knowing that he currently had no ability to do so. “Gimme a few minutes…”

“No need.” Geno’s hands were back at Sid’s sides, gently coaxing him to turn until he was lying flat on his back. Sid turned his head in both curiosity and anticipation, pondering whether or not to move any of his muscles when Geno pushed himself off of the couch and stood up, approaching with his rock-hard cock in one hand. 

It turned out there really _was_ no need to act, as Geno was now determined to do everything himself. Delicious pain seared across his scalp as Geno grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled Sid’s head towards him, violently beating himself off until he shot all over Sid’s face.

Geno gently lowered Sid’s head back onto the couch before releasing the hair and smiling euphorically. “Always wanted to do that.”

“Jesus Christ, Geno,” was all Sid could manage, along with a lighthearted chuckle.

Geno’s response was something filthy-sounding in Russian accompanied by an admiring smile as he marveled at his workmanship.

Thankfully Geno had the foresight to bring the towels downstairs. Then again, this wouldn’t be the first time they had made a mess on the couch…or elsewhere, for that matter.  
***  
Considering all that had happened over the past few days, and how late the hour had gotten, they really should have been asleep by that point.

Yet once they both crawled between the sheets, sleep was the furthest thing from their minds.

They weren’t as young as they used to be. Father Time had come to collect his dues, and his toll was a heavy one. They couldn’t have the marathon sessions they did during their first Cup run, nor could they get hard on a dime as they once were able to.

But like a fine wine, their copulation improved with age and maturity.

There was no more awkwardness, no more fumbling, no more pain, no more “What the hell are you doing? Stop that.”

Now they knew one another’s bodies like well-traveled roads, to the point where they no longer needed maps or compasses. They knew what the other liked, what the other wanted, and remembered just how the other felt and tasted, no matter how much time or distance separated them during the offseason. 

And the one thing that never changed was the animal magnetism that drew them both together, setting them on a collision course that could destroy entire continents with the force of its impact.

One additional advantage was that the lines of communication were so wide open that neither of them was afraid to ask for or tell the other what they wanted.

Which was exactly what Sid did when he pushed back against the man behind him, squirming libidinously as he issued one simple command: “Fuck me.” 

Geno lunged towards the nightstand, only too happy to oblige, especially when Sid talked like _that._

When he heard the nightstand drawer open, Sid began pushing himself onto all fours, but stopped at the sound of Geno’s voice. “No. Other way.”

On his back? The elbow must have been bothering Geno more than he was letting on, but that was a topic for later. 

But then again, this way Sid could watch. There was something enthralling about gazing at Geno the whole time, knowing he had his undivided attention as those russet eyes never broke their stare, even when they steeled over with intensity as Geno slid down the ledge of oblivion. 

The thrill came rushing back when Geno crawled back over, expression already intense as he pushed Sid’s knees further apart before retrieving the bottle of lube from its temporary spot on the bed. Geno poured some on his index and middle fingers, then rubbed them against his thumb to warm it up before sliding them inside Sid without saying a word, triggering a strained groan from the other man.

Sid was definitely ready from all of the previous activity, but Geno always had that slightly cruel side to him, the one that got off on hearing Sid beg.

“Geno, _please,”_ Sid whimpered, voice breaking as the fingers inside him curled enough to lightly stroke the most sensitive part of him. 

“Tell me what you want,” Geno commanded; his sudden grasp of English solidified by how many times he had issued this demand in past encounters. 

Instead, it was Sid who lost his linguistic ability as he convulsed against the fingers stroking him lightly, only managing a wrecked “please…”

Geno grabbed Sid’s face and yanked it towards him, eliciting a started squeal from Sid as his head jerked to the opposite side of where he had been facing. 

_“Tell me what you want,”_ Geno snarled through gritted teeth, pressing his fingers and thumb further into Sid’s cheeks, hard enough to evoke pain.

“I want you to fuck me!” Sid wailed desperately, voice growing higher in a failing attempt to retain his sanity.

Geno’s smile as he withdrew his fingers was devious and obscene, widening as he reached down and clutched one of Sid’s ankles with his good hand, then pulled the attached leg straight up and across his chest. With his other hand, Geno pushed down on the other thigh, opening Sid up wider before driving his hips forward, entering him completely in one stroke. 

The raw, inhuman groan that escaped from Sid’s throat in response caused Geno to twitch inside of him, evoking several shrill whimpers in return before Geno wrapped his good arm around the upright leg and leaned over slightly. Instinctively, Sid rolled his hips towards the ceiling, allowing Geno to slide inside him that additional smidgen, the difference between reason and perdition.

Geno tightened his death grip around Sid’s ankle, glaring down at the other man as he used his unoccupied hand to press down on Sid’s supine thigh. “Look at me,” he implored. 

Their pulses both quickened when Sid complied; and Geno never broke his gaze for a moment as he began to move, slower than molasses, deliberately bearing down as far as possible at the end of every stroke before retreating. 

Geno chuckled wickedly at the impatient keening in response to his languid pace. The epiphany before the Finals regarding Geno’s momentum had been a mixed blessing for Sid. They were both able to last longer and come harder if Geno slowly, ever so slowly, brought him to the brink…but the sluggishness was pure, exquisite torture, almost more than Sid could bear.

And not only did Geno revel in his discovery, but he made sure to take full advantage of it.

Those chestnut eyes gleamed viciously as he gazed pointedly at the man below him on the bed. “Nothing you can do.” Geno emphasized his point with a series of firmer thrusts between words, beaming at the deliriously frustrated shrieks they elicited. “Nothing…you…can…do. I’m know…you love it.”

The hand on his cock, the comforter clenched in his free hand, the pathetic screams and whimpers, and the pleading glances from Sid accomplished nothing. He had absolute dominion on the ice, but the bedroom was Geno’s domain. There was no pulling rank here. 

Sid was an open diary to which only Geno had the key, and Geno knew full well that he _did_ love it; loved being held captive to Geno’s every whim and desire, which made the subjugation that much more agonizing…

Yet he wanted nothing more, nothing other than to be loved, ravished, and _wanted;_ to leave his responsibilities behind for those all-too-brief moments, to not be a captain, a Penguin, a brother, or even a human for that period of time. Instead, he only wanted Geno’s flesh against his flesh; to kiss him with the kisses of his mouth, to return to the Garden of Eden, where they were asleep yet awake; where he was Geno’s, and Geno was his.

Then suddenly, the floodgates opened; and out poured the stream of filthy-sounding Russian, the intense glimpses, and the pounding thrusts that increased as their breathing became rougher and nails dug into flesh, but their gazes remained transfixed on one another, even as they shed their humanity and went completely feral. 

Sid plunged into the infinite darkness, fireworks blazing in his vision as the supernova collapsed, flashing brilliantly before exploding into myriad reams of color; the ephemeral flame flickering one final, climatic time before ebbing and flowing; fading and yet leaving its faint, beautiful glow as an eternal memory.

Gradually, the light returned, and Sid glanced at Geno’s face monetarily before watching him pull out and jerk himself furiously. His face, his expression, was intense, animalistic, and yet gentle; conveying every emotion within even in the white-hot flame of desire, beatific even as what Sid knew to be a rather profane Russian phrase escaped the parted lips before Geno came all over his stomach, his chest, and even a bit on his face. 

If there had been any previous doubt that they were now both down for the count, it was immediately dissipated when Geno collapsed in a disheveled heap next to Sid, speaking in tongues neither English nor Russian as the tremors continued to rock his body, making him thrash about as if he were possessed.

But perhaps that was only appropriate, as they had both been reborn in those fleeting moments.

“Geno?” The floating, dreamlike sensation had given way to concern as Sid now extended a hand to the other man. “You okay?”

The only response was an affirmative grunt as Geno placed his hand in Sid’s and squeezed gently.

Sid chuckled lightly as he squeezed back in response, interlacing his fingers between Geno’s. They’d definitely need to clean up before turning in for the night, but that required effort he didn’t have the strength for at the moment, nor the mental facilities required to push himself up and off the bed in order to make his way over to the bathroom, or even over to the dresser. The memory of the last time Taylor had visited suddenly bemused him. Sid recalled how he had tried to explain to her in as little detail as possible that no, she _really_ didn’t want to use any of the towels in the bottom right hand drawer.

The incident had embarrassed him up until he relayed it to Geno, whose only response was hysterical laughter. 

All the memories of their previous encounters suddenly blended together, and Sid found himself unable to focus on anything else, whether it was sleep, the upcoming trip back home, or even the fact that he would likely be jumping in the shower at roughly 1:15 AM.

In vulgar parlance: Geno had fucked his brains out. 

And yet, it didn’t matter. 

He could remain temporarily insane for a little bit longer.  
***  
They awoke the way they had both fallen asleep, with Sid lying against Geno’s chest, under his good arm, with Geno’s other arm around him. Sid had one arm around Geno, and his other against Geno’s chest.

“Anna’s okay with you having stayed the night?” Obviously, Geno wouldn’t have slept over had she not been okay with it, but Sid suddenly needed the reassurance.

“I’m asked,” Geno replied with an affirmative nod.

“I figured.” Sid absentmindedly traced his fingers over Geno’s chest. “But Niki…is it okay you’re here?”

Geno looked down at Sid and beamed warmly, smiling with the light of the brightest stars before sunrise. “Have all summer with Anna and Niki. But Sid going home soon.”

Yes…home. He could return to friends and family triumphant once more; vindicated at last, much more than a one-hit wonder, truly a great—not an underperformer, not overpaid, not too old, too lazy, or a crybaby.

Even though Sid remained silent as he looked up at the other man, Geno read his expression perfectly, knowing exactly what he wanted to ask, about whether they still belonged to one another.

“Still mine, Sid,” Geno said gently, running a hand through Sid’s hair. “Always.” 

Geno always knew what to say to reassure Sid. It didn’t matter what the future held for them. Even if Sid were to marry and have children of his own, nothing between them would ever change.

For Sid was Geno’s, and Geno was Sid’s.

Always.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I received a comment on "Victory Lap" requesting that Sid get a bonus for winning the Conn Smythe. I had originally intended to put a rimming scene in that one, but decided against it because I felt it would break the flow too much. But here, as a bonus, it worked perfectly. 
> 
> 2\. Those of you who had religious upbringings/went to Christian schools likely recognize the Song of Solomon references sprinkled throughout. I find it incredibly sensual and erotic. Not only is it consensual and incredibly sex-positive, it's also respectful of the bride. I also particularly like this passage: _"I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or the does of the field, that you not stir up or awaken love until it pleases."_ I find it very profound.
> 
> Myself, I went to Catholic school, so yeah, I'm familiar. No Catholic guilt here. With everything I've written in the past, if it exists, I'm likely going to hell. So at this point, it's go big or go home.
> 
> 3\. Comments are greatly appreciated. By all means, if this sucks, tell me why.


End file.
